When Lucy walked through the front door of the Curtis place on the night of her eighteenth birthday, she pretended to be surprised. The only person she fooled was Pony. She'd let Jane doll her up after all, with a different, more striking shade of red lipstick than she usually wore and a dress from ten years earlier that her mother used to wear. She didn't want to look dated, but Jane assured her she looked classic. Classic. If there was one word Lucy never would have used to describe herself before, it was classic. Now, however, it seemed much more fitting.

She waded through a number of "Happy Birthday!" greetings, politely nodding at each one of her friends as she tried to make her way to the back of the house. Just as she'd suspected, Dallas Winston was nowhere to be found. Her heart began to sink, but she quickly picked it up again. She didn't need him to be there to have a nice time on her birthday. In fact, he probably would have found a way to ruin the whole thing. It was good he wasn't there.

But the second he walked through the door (about ten seconds after Lucy resolved not to care about his absence), she was thrilled to see him.

She didn't let on, of course. No matter what he said about liking her a little bit, and no matter what her friends said about him not giving up on anything he really wanted, she didn't believe it. Dally wasn't stupid. He wouldn't come after a girl who was just going to turn him away. Then again, he knew what would happen if he got caught fighting, and he kept doing that. She didn't want to give herself false hope. After all, who hoped to end up with Dallas Winston?

But as she felt her hands unclench—from fists to palms—she knew. She hoped to end up with Dallas Winston, at least for one night.

Slowly, she walked toward him, unafraid of embarrassment for the first time since she couldn't remember when. Soda told him hey, and he pointed at him as if to communicate something secretive. Then, before she knew it, she stood right in front of him. They looked each other in the eye, almost like they had that night at the Dingo. Only now, instead of glaring at each other, they were really looking at each other. When Lucy looked at Dally, she saw someone she knew. He was thinking the same thing. She could almost hear it.

"Didn't think you'd make it," she said, trying to keep her cool.

"Almost didn't," he said. "I guess I'm supposed to tell you happy birthday."

"But you couldn't, right? That would mean saying the word happy, and as we know, that's something you've never been."

Dally laughed, and Lucy wanted him to touch her hand again, just like he had with the glass of water. Maybe if she said something … no. She couldn't force it. It had to happen naturally, like everything already had.

"You don't know I've never been happy," he said.

"Maybe, but I can guess."

He smirked and pulled a carton of Kools out of his jacket, motioning toward the backdoor.

"Listen, Darry'll kill me if I light up in here. But I'm goin' outside for a smoke. You can come with me, or you can stay here. I don't care."

At the time (and for a long time afterward), though almost no one would have believed it, Dally really thought that was a romantic thing to say. But as his match, Lucy took it that way, walking beside him as he made his familiar way to the backyard. Lucy thought she might have heard Jane squeal, but Soda pulled her aside before she could taunt Lucy. What was that about? Everyone would find out soon enough. What mattered now was going into the backyard with Dally and owning up to what she was afraid of. She may have used up all her chances, but she'd forge this one out of thin air. That, she could force. Otherwise, she'd never know.

While Dally took Lucy out into the backyard, Sodapop tapped Jane on the shoulder and asked if she wanted to join him out in the front yard. After he asked, Jane was flustered. On the one hand, she wanted nothing more than to follow him wherever he went. But on the other, she could hear Lucy's voice telling her not to just get up and do what a boy says just because you think he's good looking. For as much as she'd ragged on Lucy for that all these years, it was only now she realized Lucy had a point.

And then she saw his eyes—soulful, honest, and lovely. She'd hold out for a moment or two, but in the end, she knew she'd go with him. She had to. For as long as she could remember, she'd loved him. She never stopped loving him, even after he dumped her.

"What makes you think I want to go with you?" Jane asked. "You dumped me for my brother."

"C'mon, Jane," Soda said. "I wanna talk to you."

She waited a moment, and then she nodded.

"All right, I'll go with you," she said.

Soda grinned that reckless grin she'd always loved so much (though she tried to keep a stone face for now), and when they came upon the front door, he held it open for her. She tried to keep a stone face about that, too, but she had to admit. It was awful nice for a boy to look after her like that. It didn't hurt that it was Sodapop Curtis, either.

For a minute or two, Dally seemed to be more interested in his cigarette than in Lucy. Eventually, she cleared her throat loudly, and he put the smoke out under his boot. They looked at each other in silence until they realized what the other was doing. Although they must have known they had the same thing to talk about, they didn't want to be the first to look weak. Bitterly, Lucy broke the silence.

"I won't speak first," she said.

He snorted. "You just did."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't about what we have to talk about. So it doesn't count. I won't speak first."

Dally rolled his eyes, all kinds of frustrated with Lucy Bennet. He muttered a phrase she didn't like (but could abide for the time, since at least it wasn't misogynistic) and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather. More time passed, and Lucy felt her skin grow hot with impatience. She dug her heels into the grass and muttered a few curses under her breath, too. Son of a bitch was stubborn, but so was she.

"Give up?" Dally asked.

"No," Lucy replied quickly. "I could do this all night. If this is how I have to spend my eighteenth birthday, great. I'll do it. With any luck, we'll be here in two weeks when you turn eighteen, too."

"We'll see, won't we?"

They went back to silence. Strangely, it was perfect. Though they weren't talking about how they'd realized they were matched, their obstinacy proved it for them. But it wasn't enough. Lucy was going to get Dallas Winston to say his piece if it was the last thing she did. Of course, that was what he thought about her, too. Maybe they wouldn't get anywhere.

In the kitchen, Sadie was trying to finish frosting Lucy's birthday cake. Darry had been planning to do it, but he got called into work earlier that day and couldn't finish, leaving the job to Sadie since the party was her idea. As she frosted, careful not to stab the cake with her knife and make it crumble, Johnny quietly came into the kitchen. She didn't notice until he spoke up.

"Hey, Sadie."

Sadie looked up from the cake and smiled a little. To this point, she and Johnny had been on a few dates. Each was relatively pleasant, and each time, he spoke to her more and more. She remembered why she'd had a crush on him when she was younger. Johnny was kind and considerate, much like her brothers, but he could be tough if he wanted. The other night, when they were walking home, a boy Sadie didn't exactly recognize had leered at her—She almost didn't believe any boy would look at her that way since she was Soda's plain twin sister, not a beauty herself—and Johnny calmly (yet sternly) told him he'd better get a move on, looking toward his back pocket. The boy backed off… must have heard about the six-inch switchblade Johnny had been carrying since he got jumped months earlier. But that was why Sadie had always felt drawn to him, whether or not she recognized it: He knew how to be tough when it counted, and that toughness was born from kindness. It was nothing short of admirable.

She wasn't in love with Johnny the way that Jane was in love with Soda, or even the way that Lucy was in love with Dally. But she liked him. She liked him, and for both of them, that was enough for now.

"Hi, Johnny," she said. "Did you know it's hard to frost a cake?"

"Wouldn't have guessed, but I never done it before. Need help?"

"Naw, I'm OK. But… you can stay."

Johnny gave Sadie a shy smile and moved closer to her. He and Lilly had been practicing what he would say next, and he was (much to his own surprise) ready to say it. That kid sister of his could be a sure headache sometimes, but as a girl, she knew about them. Best of all, she knew Sadie. Johnny was sure in that moment he liked Sadie a little more than she liked him, but maybe that would change. They'd been on three dates so far, and every time, Sadie would sit a little closer to him. If he was doing something right, he hoped he'd pick up on it and keep doing it. Sadie was just too cute to lose.

"Hey, Sadie?"

"I'm listenin'." Her eyes were glued to the chocolate cake.

"I don't know what else I can say to you, but… 'Are you – Nobody – too?'"

Sadie put the knife down and clapped her hands together, unabashedly amused.

"Oh, c'mon," she said. "You gotta know that's cheesy."

Johnny stuffed his hands in the pocket of his denim jacket and looked off to the side. Damn Lilly for telling him it was a good idea to quote Sadie's favorite Dickinson that way. It was the last time he'd take advice from a fifteen-year-old kid.

Sadie noticed Johnny getting discouraged, so she reached for him and pulled him back. He looked surprised, almost frightened, and Sadie smiled gently to reassure him.

"It's cheesy," she said, "and I feel like Lilly told you to do it. Am I right about that?"

Johnny nodded. "Shoulda known better than to listen to my kid sister about…"

Before she really knew what she was doing, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and quickly kissed him. It was about damn time.

"It's cheesy," Sadie repeated, "but I liked it."

Johnny bit his bottom lip and let out a laugh of relief. Sadie followed suit as she went right back to frosting the cake.

"And I am," she said, still looking at the cake because she was too afraid to look anyone in the eye when she admitted it. "Nobody, I mean."

"Well, that's all right. Me too."

Sadie smiled and finished off the cake. She always liked that Dickinson poem when she was a kid; still, she never could shake the feeling that it was unrealistic. There couldn't be two of nobody because nobody would go looking for another. They stayed locked up in their houses, or worse, locked up in their own minds. But here was another nobody, and he was taking her out again on Friday night.

That was enough for now.

Jane stood far enough away from Soda on the front lawn to make him notice. Every time he inched closer, she'd move back just a little bit. It wasn't that she wanted to be far away from him. No, she wanted more than anything to be close to him—to hold him in her arms and tell him that she didn't care that he'd dumped her to save face with Steve. That was what good friends did. She wanted to tell him that she didn't care about what happened.

Except the difference was that she did care. No one had made her priority before, except Steve, and as her brother, he'd been almost obligated. If she was going to be with a boy, particularly a boy like Sodapop Curtis, whom she spent her whole life wishing to be with, she needed him to make her a priority. Her parents never treated her like one, but she knew she was worth being a priority. She knew it wasn't too much to ask for. It wasn't too much to ask of the right person. If he wanted to be the right person, he needed to prove it to her. She couldn't just take him back because he was handsome, although her blood cried out for her to do precisely that.

"You got me," she said. "What did you wanna say?"

Soda shifted his weight in his shoes, not saying anything for a few seconds. Then, finally, he said exactly what Jane expected (and wanted) him to say.

"Janie, I'm sorry about what happened before," he said. "I'm sorry I ditched you 'cause I was afraid of what Steve would think. I'm still afraid of what Steve thinks."

Before Jane could answer, they heard a noise from the front porch.

"Aww, hell, Soda!"

It was Steve, standing there and watching the conversation between his sister and his best friend unfold. Jane looked aghast.

"You go back inside!" she yelled. "This ain't about you!"

"Yeah, man!" Soda called out. "That's what I'm tryin' to tell her!"

"Well, let me make it real easy for both of ya," Steve said. "Janie, I don't give a damn if you date this kid. If it works out, then he's my brother. And if it doesn't, I get to beat the tar out of him. It's a win-win."

"For you," Soda said.

"Yeah, but I don't think you gotta worry."

"Can you go back inside, please?" Jane implored. "We're tryin' to have a moment, and you're ruinin' it."

Dramatically, Steve turned around and headed back into the house. Without thinking, Jane and Soda turned to one another, in stitches.

"He's always had such a flair for the dramatic," Jane said, borrowing a phrase she'd heard from Lucy about Lilly. "You remember, though, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Soda said. "Just last week, he was sure he was dyin' of smallpox. I think he was disappointed when I told him it was just a pimple."

"Sounds like my brother."

"Sure does."

Their laughter died down after a minute, and they were forced to confront the real issue again. At the same time, they both turned pink and looked at the grass, then at each other. Soda wasn't usually this embarrassed around girls, but Jane meant more to him than almost any girl ever had. She wasn't one you burned through, and he was awful sorry he'd treated her like that before. She was one you spent time on. How could he have forgotten that?

"Jane." It was all he could say.

"You don't…"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't've acted that way. I mean, Steve means a lot to me. He's my buddy. But if you're gonna be my girl…"

Jane could feel her eyes light up. It was involuntary. She tried to keep her cool, but it was no use. She'd been waiting to hear Sodapop Curtis say that since they were little kids, and now, he was. How was she supposed to keep her cool?

"Is that what you're askin'?" she said. "Are you askin' me to be your girl?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. If that's what you want, it's what I'm askin'. 'Cause that's what I want."

Her cool flew out the window, and something told her even Lucy wouldn't have cared. She broke out into the biggest grin she'd ever felt on her face and ran directly at Soda, throwing her arms around his neck. She didn't care that she wasn't supposed to do that. She didn't care that she was supposed to play it cool. Jane knew herself, and she wasn't one to keep her cool—not in love, anyway. Love was really the opposite of cool. They couldn't go together, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

Soda lost his balance a little bit when he felt Jane's tight hold on him. He laughed a little, lifting her off his chest a bit and tucking a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear.

"Glory, Jane," he said. "But you're stronger than you look."

If it were possible, her face became even brighter. Soda had no idea, of course, but that was the best thing he could have said to her that night.

"Did you finish that book?"

Carrie looked up at Ponyboy, who now moved to sit next to her on the couch.

"What?" she asked.

"Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Did you finish it?"

"Not yet. Why? You miss it?"

"Oh, yeah. My other books get real lonesome when I take one off the shelf. It's like they can feel it, and then they get cold."

Carrie smiled. She hadn't talked to Ponyboy like this since they'd gone to the movies the day before her birthday in the summer. Since then, things had been awkward… cold. They used to have good talks before he'd gone and kissed her (and for no good reason at that). It had been a few days, and Carrie had resolved to take it easy with the kid—for now, anyway. They might have been in the same grade, but he was a whole year younger than she was. He was a whole year behind when it came to girls and dates. Maybe she'd wait for him. Maybe she wouldn't. Either way, she wasn't going to worry about what was the right thing to do or the wrong thing. Lucy was right. She was more relaxed that way… more like the person she wanted to be.

"Tell ya what," Carrie said. "When I'm done with your book, I'm gonna give you one of mine."

"You want me to read a girl's book?"

"I want you to read a book that a girl owns a copy of."

He smiled a little. He liked that Carrie Shepard could argue exact words with him. She was a lot smarter than people liked to give her credit. Was that why he'd kissed her at the movies? No. He didn't want to think about that … not for a while.

"What's it about?" Ponyboy asked.

"Well, I'm not supposed to have it," Carrie said. "Tim would kill me if he knew what it was about, kinda like when you read The Carpetbaggers without Darry knowin'. It's about this lady in Paris named Françoise, and the guy she's with, Pierre. They know this other girl, and well … you're just gonna have to read it."

It may not have been the beginning of a beautiful romance, but it was the beginning of a beautiful exchange of philosophy. At fourteen and fifteen years old, neither of them realized there wasn't much of a difference.

"Hey, Lilly."

Lilly looked up at Two-Bit and felt torn. In a way, she wanted nothing more than to talk to him about that night. But she was smarter than people gave her credit, and she knew it was better to keep her trap shut. She smiled at him, but it was nothing more than polite. At least, that was what she was aiming for.

"Hi," she said.

"Can I sit down?"

She looked around the room, checking for Darry or Johnny, who'd likely kick his ass or panic if they saw him get too close. Ostensibly, everyone had believed Two-Bit when he came back around and told them nothing had happened between him and Lilly, but there was a persistent air of suspicion. They could both feel it. It was simply easier to pretend it wasn't there.

That night, if only for a moment, Two-Bit didn't care that the rest of the gang was watching him like one big hawk whenever he got anywhere near Lilly. He had something to say to the girl, and he was going to say it. Otherwise, he'd regret it.

"Listen," he said. His tone was gentle, something he rarely put on. "I never woulda said nothin' about that night, anyway."

"Then why'd you bolt?"

Two-Bit had to think for a second, which he didn't want to do. It was easier just to react, but he couldn't afford to do that when Lilly Cade was on the line. There was a good amount of people in that house alone who were lined up to kick his ass if he so much looked at her funny. He'd have to make it quick, but he'd have to make it count, too.

"Dunno. Guess I didn't want to see what would happen if they didn't believe me."

Lilly nodded her head slowly. It was about all she could do. She still felt like she was in love with Two-Bit every time she looked at him, and unlike what Lucy and Johnny had been trying to tell her all week, she didn't think it was just because she was fifteen years old. She'd had crushes before. None of them were like this one. Of course, that was the problem with being the pet of the gang's pet. Nobody took a damn thing you said seriously. She couldn't tell Two-Bit how she felt (or thought she felt) about him because he had no choice but to turn her away. More than that, she didn't want to stand by while Lucy and Dally kicked his head in. She'd have to sit back and play it innocent for a while. What could it hurt? She was doing a fine job already, if she said so herself.

"I dig," she said. "But you gotta understand. When I woke up, and you weren't there to talk to Katie with me … and then Darry had to send Soda to come and find you … I didn't feel too hot about that."

He nodded. It was about all he could do, too. It wasn't that he was in love with Lilly Cade. Hell, she was just a kid. How could he be in love with her? But she was Johnny's kid sister, his own sister's best friend, and he'd known her a long time, so she meant something to him. He wanted to tell her that. He wanted to tell her, but he couldn't. Her eyes were so big and so hopeful (which Lilly herself didn't recognize, of course), and he couldn't be the guy who gave her more hope because it would just be empty. It would stay empty for a long time. He didn't know what else to do.

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry, Lil."

"I know."

And she did know, but that didn't make it—any of it—suddenly OK. Though Lilly never heard any whispers from her friends or the other girls at school, she could hear the thoughts buzzing around in her friends' heads—see them dancing behind their eyes. Dally had kicked Two-Bit's ass for trying to run away, and that had been all. Lilly had to deal with the unspoken whispers. She didn't know how long she'd have to deal with them, but she figured she wouldn't be rid of them any time soon.

"You look nice tonight," Two-Bit offered, instantly regretting it.

"I know," Lilly said, and Two-Bit couldn't help but laugh, which made Lilly smile just a little.

For a long time afterward, Lilly was unbelievably proud of that line. And she was right. She looked nice, and she knew it.

Lucy and Dally still hadn't spoken a word to one another—not about what they were supposed to discuss, anyway. She stared at him. His hands were tucked firmly into the pockets of his leather where she couldn't touch them even she wanted to. Her impatience ripened, and a minute or two later, she decided she couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you remember that summer we were over here?" she asked. "And I kept complaining about being thirsty, so you got up and got me a glass of water without a word?"

Dally nodded curtly. "Yeah."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Dunno. Wanted you to shut up."

"Well, I wanted somebody to shut me up."

He took his hands out his pockets and turned to look at her—really look at her—another time. Of course he'd been with plenty of girls before, but he wasn't sure he'd ever heard any of them say anything as hot as what Lucy Bennet had just said.

Then again, maybe he just liked her.

Before he could try to say anything, Lucy spoke. She didn't care that he wasn't saying his piece anymore. Hers was too important to let it go unsaid. Who cared about looking weak anymore? Maybe there was nothing tougher than spilling your guts to the roughest guy you knew. It was a hell of a risk. Maybe that made her the most dangerous of them all.

"If you were to ask me out again," she said, her voice slow and steady, "I might not say no."

Dally smirked again. He'd known it all along (and he'd been planning to ask her out again since the second Sadie Curtis told him Lucy wanted to see him), but it brought him a joy he didn't quite understand to hear her say it first, almost as if he couldn't believe she liked him until she said it.

"Nothin's changed for me," he said. "You just say the word, Bennet. You say no, and I'll leave you alone till I die."

She grabbed his hand and was shocked when he didn't recoil. That feeling was back when they touched. It coursed through her body like that fire she never learned how to put out. Based on the look in his eye, she could see that he felt it, too. Lucy almost blushed. She knew she'd felt something like this the first time they touched, but it was nothing compared to what she felt now. She knew he wasn't going to say a word, so she spoke again with just one word.

"Don't."

But to her surprise, Dally's face fell from that impish grin to rare disappointment. She furrowed her brow, wondering what he could have thought she meant. Out of impulsivity, he dropped her hand like it was lethal and tore off toward the front lawn.

"Forget it," he said. "Just fuckin' forget it."

In an egregious betrayal of everything she tried to teach the other girls about love, Lucy took off running for Dally, trying to explain herself, but it was no use. She wasn't saying anything, and it was as though he couldn't hear her panting behind him.

It was for the best, Lucy thought. They wouldn't have worked out, anyway. They might have been each other's matches, but their similarities would have torn them down. She didn't need to feel that pain, and neither did he, now that she knew how deeply he could feel. Once she was on the front lawn, she could still see him walking away. She gave up on trying to chase him. She'd never make it.

As soon as she gave up on Dallas Winston, Jane and Soda ambled toward her, happy as they'd ever looked. Lucy caught her breath and asked them what in the world they were doing together.

"Well, we're back on, see," Jane explained.

"Oh!" Lucy said. "Good! Good for you!"

She was surprised by how much she meant it. She was surprised by how much she wanted to feel the same way and how she almost had. How could Dally not have understood that she was asking him not to go? That she wanted him to stay near her? She caught her bearings one more time. It didn't matter. They never would have worked out, anyway. Dallas Winston was just another guy who wanted to screw around. There were a million of them out there. She'd forget about him before the night was up. She'd have to.

"Wouldn't have happened so quick if it hadn't been for Dally," Soda said.

Lucy cocked her brow at him. "What?"

"Dally. A little awhile ago, he found me, gave me a cut above one of my eyes, and told me I better shape up and get back with Jane."

Just like that, Lucy's insides began to twist again. She wasn't going to forget about Dally tonight because she couldn't … because she had already fallen in love with him. She thought of the way it felt when they looked at each other and when they touched … how he'd roughed Two-Bit up for Lilly's sake after Lucy had been so upset … how he'd willingly done time for a buddy and his family … how he could look at her and speak to her like an equal. And now, he'd helped Jane, just like she said she wished he could.

Maybe Dally wasn't a good guy, but he wasn't a bad guy, either—not all the way. He was just a guy, trying to make choices and get through to the end of each day. Lucy would never make most of the choices he did. Yet, he'd put all this skin in the game for her. He'd never even given it a second thought—just jumped right in because he thought she wanted him to. How could she turn away a guy like that? How could she turn away a guy who was so willing to fight for the people she loved? Didn't that mean…?

She thought of how well they spoke to one another. It really was true that she could seem to hear and feel as he did. It was more than simply what they had in common. Dally just had to give her a look or say a single word, and she just knew what he meant. Something told her he could hear and feel all of her thoughts, too. He was her match, and she was his. She didn't want to change him or save him from his aggression. All she wanted was to make him more aware of it. He didn't want to change her or save her from her arrogance, either. He just wanted to make sure she knew herself.

Regardless of arrogance and aggression, they couldn't seem to stop thinking about each other. They couldn't seem to stop falling in love. Lucy smiled without inhibition. She was no longer worried about looking weak. It didn't matter when it was your match.

"Lucy?" Jane asked. "Are you OK?"

"I am!" Lucy said. "Oh, Jane … Jane … he … Dally … and I … are just so similar!"

"That's what we've been trying to tell you," Jane said.

"Didn't you work it out?" Soda asked. "I thought you were gonna, but then I saw him take off faster than anything I ever saw. Said he was goin' back to his room at Buck's."

Lucy's heart dropped. She'd never be able to catch up to him in time. If she walked all that way, Dally would surely be with another girl by the time she got there, forgetting her for real this time. Her kingdom for a car! She had a driver's license, but her parents laughed when she asked about buying a car. She silently cursed herself for saving up for college instead.

"I have to get to him," Lucy said. "But I don't have time to walk all the way there. He told me he'd gone after other girls to try to forget me before. He'll do it again if I'm not quick enough."

"You could ask Darry to borrow his keys," Soda suggested. "You ain't drunk, and I think he'd trust you with the car more than he trusts me with it."

"Are you sure?"

"Naw, but it can't hurt tryin'. Can it?"

Lucy nodded, muttered a quick thank-you to Soda, and ran into the Curtis house. The first person to see her was Sadie, who was carrying the chocolate cake on a plate.

"Good, you're back!" Sadie said. "I was gonna light some candles before we sang to you."

She looked around, puzzled. "Wait a minute. Where's Dally?"

"He took off," Lucy said. "He thought I was telling him to get out, but he misunderstood. Soda said he's headed back to his room at Buck's, and I don't have time to walk there."

Sadie nodded, immediately understanding what Lucy was asking without needing to ask it. She put the cake down on the table and shouted toward the back of the house.

"Darry!"

Right on cue, Darry came running out from the back of the house, looking worried—his default expression for the past year.

"Sadie, you better have set the house on fire to be yellin' like that," he said. He looked around and shrugged. "Huh. No flames. Just an annoying kid sister."

"Lucy needs to borrow the car," she said, looking toward Lucy, who nodded obediently.

Darry made a face. Excellent. Here was another thing he had to worry about.

"Why do you need the car, Lucy?"

Though Lucy opened her mouth to answer, Sadie interrupted. "Because Dally thought she was telling him to go away, but she was really telling him to stay because she's in love with him. He took off, and now she's worried she won't be able to find him and clear it up before he forgets all about her. And we've been working for forever to get them to realize they're a good match, and I'm not letting her throw it away on her birthday."

Exasperated, Darry turned to look at Lucy, who was still nodding like an obedient little doll.

"Is that true, Lucy?" he asked.

"I'm nodding, aren't I?"

"How can you be in love with Dally? I was pretty sure you didn't even like him."

"That's what love's like sometimes, Darry," Sadie said. "Maybe one of these days, you'll know. Now, can you please give Lucy the keys? We're standin' here wastin' time, and you know how fast Dally can be."

Darry sighed and fished his keys out of his pocket, handing them over to Lucy, who thanked him profusely.

"You break that car, you're payin' for it," Darry warned her. "In other words, you ain't breakin' that car. Hear me?"

"I won't hurt it," Lucy said. "I promise."

She turned to Sadie, her eyes nervous and pleading.

"You wanna go with me, Sadie?"

To Lucy's surprise, Sadie shook her head.

"Better if you go on your own," she said. "I shouldn't just up and leave Johnny here without tellin' him where I'm off to. Besides, it'd be awful uncomfortable for me to sit downstairs at Buck's waitin' for you. I think you'll be there a while."

Lucy smirked a little. If she and Dally touched hands one more time, she had a feeling Sadie's prediction wouldn't be wrong.

"I'll see you in the morning, or something," Lucy said.

"I'll be waitin'. Hey, Lucy?"

"Yeah."

"Happy birthday. Now, get."

Lucy nodded, thanked Darry for the car one more time, and tore out the front door. She drove a little faster than Darry probably would have preferred, but it didn't matter. She knew what she wanted, and she had to get to him before he shut her down. As she drove, she thought back to one time when Ponyboy said that Dally always got what he wanted. That was cute. Maybe this was what Dally wanted—Lucy Bennet borrowing a car and driving to a place she didn't want to be just to see him. But Dally wasn't the only person who always got what he wanted. She did, too, if she worked hard enough for it.

She parked the car and tore off for the front door as fast as her tiny body would carry her. She was working hard for it, all right.

When Buck Merril answered the door that night, he looked pissed right off to see Lucy Bennet standing there.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked. "Why're you here all the fuckin' time?"

"Dally," Lucy said, out of breath from the drive, the run, and the sound of Dally's name between her lips. "I gotta see Dally."

Buck narrowed his eyes at her, wishing more than anything that she'd just go the hell away. This broad had no idea what she was getting herself into, and he'd taken it upon himself to make sure she knew.

"You ain't gonna see him," Buck said. "Don't you get it, girl? Dally don't like you any more than he likes the rest of 'em. You're just here. It don't mean nothin' if you go up there. He don't like you. He only likes that you're hard to get into."

Weeks ago, Lucy might have taken the hick's little speech to heart. She might have believed him. But after tonight—after she saw how hurt he'd looked when he thought she'd turned him down again—she knew it wasn't true. Dallas Winston was a match for her. And so, she did something that proved it. She wound up and punched Buck Merril right in the gut.

The punch didn't hurt Buck very much, but it was enough to distract him. She slid right past him in the doorway and ran upstairs to Dally's room. Buck was yelling a few choice words for her, worse than the ones Sadie used to describe Soda and the ones Dally used for Two-Bit, but she didn't care. This was what she wanted. She happened upon Dally's door and felt her heart jump into her throat for what felt like the millionth time that night.

Happy birthday to me, she thought.

Lucy was amazed to see that the door was ajar, and there he was, sitting on the bed. Alone. She took a deep breath and hovered over the door for a moment. Maybe she could call it all a wash and run back downstairs, almost like she'd never been there. Buck was drunk enough not to remember Lucy punching him in the gut, so he probably wouldn't mention it to anyone, let alone Dally. He'd never have to know that she desperately chased after him. They could just forget about each other.

Only she wouldn't do that. She couldn't. She had to knock on the door and hear what he had to say. Otherwise, she would never know, and she hated never knowing something that was easy to learn.

She knocked—more like pounded—on the door in case he couldn't hear her over the noise down below.

"What?" he growled. "If you're out there, just come in."

Lucy inhaled deeply, opened the door, and let herself in. She did not smile when she saw him there, nor did he smile at the sight of her. He was too shocked to see her. Why would she be there? Didn't she want him gone? Didn't she hate him?

Then, he saw the gleam in her eye, feeling the same one form in his own. It was clear to him now. She didn't want him gone, and she sure as hell didn't hate him. He'd seen that look before, and it only meant one thing. His smirk turned into a smile to match Lucy's. But he wasn't going to speak first. If he knew anything about her—and he was quite sure he did—she'd let her impatience get the best of her. She'd say something.

"Hey, Dally."

He smirked and put out his cigarette on the nightstand.

"Hey, Lucy."

"Lock the door."

And that was "Arrogance and Aggression!" It was… an experience. I know the genre-blending (Was it satire? Was it sincere?) was a little odd to read, and it was definitely odd to write. Sometimes, I wasn't even sure what I was getting myself into. But if you stuck with this love letter to my past for this long, I commend you. This has been so much fun to write—a wonderful outlet for my anxiety, too.

On this note, you might notice there's a lot of stuff here that could still be explored. Though it was originally my plan to write "Arrogance and Aggression" and call it a day, it turns out I'm not really going to do that. I've got plenty more to say about these characters, both our greasers and my sweet little OCs. It's safe to say you're going to see plenty more from me and plenty more in the "Arrogance and Aggression" universe.

The "expanded universe" will continue with a follow-up piece. I know the title, but I'm not revealing it yet, though I do hint at it in this piece a couple of times. It picks up about two weeks after this story leaves off, it does not follow the exact plot of a classic English novel, and that's all I can say. But if you've stuck with my little story until the very end, thank you. It's been a real treat, and I'm looking forward to more.